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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24847921">Shamrock Doesn’t Grow In California</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Basketball, Enemies to Lovers, H(S)appy Ending, High School, M/M, Mutual Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Unresolved (But Don’t Worry It Gets Resolved) Sexual and Romantic Tension, Very Graphic Sexual Content</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:42:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,668</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24847921</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I can’t believe I got you into this mess,” Billy says, and it sounds so painful Steve almost breaks his neck from jerking it in the direction of Billy’s voice. He’s running his hands through his messy, golden curls and Steve realizes then that it’s not that Billy is worried about the suspension. Billy is worried about Steve. “I’m such a dick, I’m sorry.” </p><p>“Hey,” Steve doesn’t care they’re literally standing in the middle of the street, he walks into Billy’s personal space and takes his face between his hands. “I don’t give a fuck about that stupid suspension, okay?” Billy breathes, they’re standing so close Steve catches the smell of margarita coming out of his mouth. “And you didn’t get me into anything, coming here was my decision and therefore my responsibility.” </p><p>Billy bites the inside of his cheek. “Big words really suit you.” </p><p>A loud honk causes them to jump apart. Taximan is looking at them like they’re lunatics. </p><p>“You kids are coming or what?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>194</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Shamrock Doesn’t Grow In California</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I’m sorry for taking my sweet sweet time in posting this. I can’t believe I’m finally doing it oh my God I’m ECSTATIC. </p><p>So, now my favorite part: disclaimers.</p><p>-Steve and Billy are 17 in this, and there’s a sex scene though no!penetration nearing the end of the fic so if you’re not okay with it please be responsible and skip it (or not read this at all). Not my cup of tea either but they’re teenagers for plot reasons. </p><p>-Said sex scene is VERY graphic and intense. Again, if you’re not okay with it, just skip the whole thing.</p><p>-I started writing this when covid-19 was not a thing so let’s pretend we live in a world where it’s still not a thing.</p><p>Title is from Johny Cash’s song called the same. If you haven’t yet, give it a listen! </p><p>This is kind of proofread. Keyword: KIND OF. Give me a break it’s long and I want to post it now.</p><p>Last but not least: BLACK LIVES FUCKING MATTER. Get involved. Use your voice. Donate if you can. Vote if you can. And never forget that all cops are bastards 🐷🐽</p><p>Everything else is pretty much explained in the tags! Thank you for reading I love you all!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Tommy barges in the boy's changing room with a paper in his hand and a happy smile on his face, Steve gets the heebie-jeebies. </p><p>See, he doesn't consider himself a hater, but he's certainly not a fan. Not a fan of Tommy, nor a fan of what he represents. He's heard his aunt once saying that, sometimes, when we don't like someone it's because we see an ugly aspect of their personality reflected on us. And that. Makes sense. After all, what Tommy represents is what Steve used to be. What Steve used to pretend to be. </p><p>Tommy's smile looks genuine, and that's what gives Steve the heebie-jeebies. Like, what'd make Tommy H. genuinely smile? Bully a fag? Bang a virgin? A declaration of war?</p><p>Tommy says 'we're going to California, guys! We did it!' and Steve <em> could </em> feel bad, really, if Tommy's choice of words didn't make him want to laugh. </p><p>We did it? More like <em> Billy </em> did it. </p><p>He doesn't say that out loud, though, because in Hawkins High, rumor is Steve Harrington has become Billy Hargrove's bitch.</p><p>Everything started one day Steve was pissed off at his father, more pissed off at his father than usual, and that translated to being distracted at practice. He was also not in the mood to take orders from Billy Hargrove, so, at the guy's third 'watch it, Harrington!' -why the coach thought it was a good idea to put the two of them in the same team was beyond him- Steve snapped. He recalls himself asking Billy, furious, why the fuck he was so competitive for, 'it's not like you're being paid for this, asshole' . Because, like. It was just a stupid high school game, right? </p><p>Yeah, no right. </p><p>'I need a scholarship if I want to go to college, pretty boy. Not all of us have been blessed with rich daddies.'</p><p>It was a slap in the face, realizing there was still so much of the old Steve luring inside of him. You can take the boy out of the Asshole Zone but you can't take the Asshole out of the boy, Jonathan would say. </p><p>Steve didn't know what to say next, so he didn't say anything. Instead, he waited until next practice and picked Billy for his team. Like, voluntarily. The coach looked ecstatic. Billy… not so much. He gave the performance of the year and when the game was over and Steve went for a high-five, he used their embrace to press Steve close to his chest and growl in his ear 'I don't need your fucking charity, Harrington.'</p><p>And of course Billy picked Steve for the next practice. He was trying to make a point, or whatever, and soon it became a routine for them, to pick each other and act like they really have no choice. </p><p>People started to notice them being less mean on the court and Steve willingly taking orders from Billy and, apparently, came to the conclusion that Billy must've put Steve's ass in place and made him his <em> bitch</em>.</p><p>That was, like, far from the truth. First, it would be stupid to not try to at least be civil if they were on the same fucking team. Second, if Steve takes orders from Billy, it's because he knows Billy is the best player in school. And third, even though they are less mean on the court, they are a hell lot meaner off it. It's like since they became basketball buddies they lost the opportunity to blow off steam during the games and now they are forced to acknowledge the tension between them in hallways and classrooms and wherever Max and Dustin needed to be dropped off or picked up. </p><p>Steve hates Billy's guts, for more reasons than one. Still, as soon as the word 'California' leaves Tommy's mouth, his eyes are desperately seeking for Billy's. </p><p>Steve's breath catches in his throat when he sees Billy's eyes already on him. </p><p>Then the coach is palming Billy on the back, startling him, and the moment is gone. Steve gets changed in record time and walks away from the team's celebration. </p><p>"So you're going to California, all paid, to play a couple of games while you stay in a four-star hotel and relax on the beach," Jonathan says, deadpan. "And you're being miserable about it." </p><p>"I'm not!" He is. "I just don't know if I want to go, that's all." </p><p>"Why, you have something better to do?" </p><p>"Well, I-" Steve starts, then notices the look on Jonathan's face. "Oh. You're being sarcastic." </p><p>"No shit. Seriously, though. This is about Billy, isn't it?" </p><p>"Oh my God, lower your fucking voice-" </p><p>They are in the middle of the school's cafeteria, and the last thing Steve needs right now is someone listening to him talk about the guy who, for all people know, turned him bitch. Jonathan snorts. "Shut up, you know how they get. And also, no. It's not about him. Why would it be?" </p><p>"I don't know, you get all weird when it comes to him." Steve is ready to protest, but Jonathan continues. "Tell me what's the problem, then." </p><p>"I told you, there's not a problem. I'm just not in the mood." </p><p>"You're just not in the mood?" </p><p>"I'm just not in the mood." </p><p>"You're just not in the mood for what?" Robin asks, devoted to the task of always appearing from out of nowhere. She plops herself down in the empty chair next to Jonathan's. </p><p>"The basketball team is going to Cali and Steve's just not in the mood to go." </p><p>Robin raises her eyebrows at him, crossing her arms. "Bullshit." </p><p>"It's true!" Steve insists, voice high-pitching. "I don't feel like spending a whole week with a group of brainless idiots." </p><p>"You know that being a part of that group makes you a brainless idiot too, right?" </p><p>She got him there. </p><p>Jonathan sighs in the way he does when he's about to lecture him. "Look, Steve, you have to go. Like it or not. There's no I in team." </p><p>Robin lets out the ugliest cackle. "Hey, Jo, Tommy H. called. He wants his memo back." </p><p>Mr. Harrington is so happy to hear the news that he doesn't bother discussing Steve's pathetic life for a whole night. Mrs. Harrington feigns concern about his son going out of state without his parents but it doesn't last long and around 10 pm Steve has his suitcases packed. </p><p>Robin, Jonathan and Nancy go to the airport to say goodbye. Steve is relieved, because only his and Billy's parents are missing and, considering Billy's parents are both literally dead, meanwhile his own parents are pretty much alive and just didn't want to go, he feels really fucking pathetic about the whole situation. </p><p>"Have fun, Dingus," Robin says when she's broken their embrace. "But not too much." </p><p>"Yeah, and beware of the sun." Nancy adds, all serious. </p><p>"Have a safe flight, man," Jonathan bro-hugs him, because he's straight like that, then ruffles his hair, because he's old-fashioned like that. "Try to come back in one piece."</p><p>"Guys, I'm just playing basketball. You ever heard of it? The one with the balls and the baskets?"</p><p>"Time to go, Harrington," Billy sing-songs from behind him, making Steve's teeth clench. "Please hold back your tears until we land in Cali. We're seat buddies and I'm not good at cheering people up." </p><p>And that's just Steve's motherfucking luck, isn't it? He had to go and hate the only person of the team besides him whose last name starts with 'Har'. His friends look amused, but Steve feels already on edge. He can't wait to have Billy all to himself, shove him against a wall and do bad, bad things to him- </p><p>"Really? I would've never imagined," Steve forces the fakest, most painful smile on his face. "And here I thought you would hold my hand and call me sweetheart. Silly me."</p><p>"Well, you'd sure like that. Wouldn't you?" Billy sneers. "Hurry up, <em> sweetheart</em>. Or you'll miss the plane." </p><p>"Yeah, I fucking hope so." </p><p>Billy raises an eyebrow at him, turns to look at Steve's friends as if saying 'can you believe this guy?' and gives them a polite salute before starting to walk away. </p><p>"Damn, I really like him." </p><p>Steve flips Robin off, grabs his suitcases and follows Billy fucking Hargrove to the plane while he mentally prepares himself for the next four hours. </p><p>But then something unusual happens. Steve sleeps through almost the entirety of the flight, and Billy just… lets him. When Steve first closed his eyes he thought 'well, I have a couple of minutes until the asshole wakes me up', and Billy just… doesn't. In fact, he doesn't make a single sound. </p><p>Steve can't help but check on him the few times Mayson Kinsley's infuriatingly loud voice startled him awake, can't help but feel like Billy's not there and he just made him up. </p><p>But every time, Billy is, in fact, right there. Concentrated on a <em> book</em>. </p><p>Steve is annoyed. Steve is so annoyed he thinks about asking Billy something mean like 'do you even know how to read?', and stops himself just in time. He doesn't get to be mean when Billy is being a decent human for once, letting him sleep and all that. He doesn't get to be annoyed, either, because what the fuck? What the fuck is he so annoyed about? That Billy is not giving him attention? That's ridiculous. </p><p>"Stop thinking so hard or your thoughts will start projecting on the air," Billy doesn't stop reading the book as he talks and, like. How. Does. He. Do. That.</p><p>Steve shifts in his seat until he's facing him. "What are you reading?" </p><p>"Ulysses by James Joyce." </p><p>"My father tried to read that book. Said it was too complicated." </p><p>Billy looks up at this and closes the book on his chest with a heavy sigh, like Steve is the one annoying <em> him</em>. </p><p>"You bored?" </p><p>"Out of my mind."</p><p>"It's only been three hours. And you just woke up." </p><p>"Your point?" </p><p>Billy considers him for a moment, then seems to give up. "It's not complicated, it's just long." </p><p>"I've never read a book before." </p><p>"You're joking." </p><p>"Nope," Steve says, drawls the p for good measure. "Started a lot of books, but I could never finish them. I don't know, maybe I'm stupid." </p><p>Billy snorts a laugh. "Someone who can solve a multiple-angle trig equation in like, two minutes can't be stupid." </p><p>And Steve… wasn't expecting that. Steve was expecting something witty, something mean. Because that's what he would have said in Billy's place, that's what Billy was supposed to say. Steve's mouth falls open, but nothing comes out. Every response he forms in his head dies instantly on the tip of his tongue. </p><p>Something about Steve's expression makes Billy backtrack. "Or, you know what, forget it. You <em> are </em> stupid-"</p><p>"Don't ruin it," Steve pleads. Grins. "That was sweet." </p><p>"Whatever," Billy growls, then goes back to his book like Steve has suddenly turned invisible. Or too painful to look at. </p><p><em>Whatever</em>. </p><p>Steve closes his eyes again, confused and kind of angry at the way his heart clenches uncomfortably in his chest. </p><p>Steve's been to San Diego before, when he was twelve and his dad dragged him to a business trip. He spent four days locked inside a hotel room, wondering why his dad had brought him along in the first place. He doesn't think it's going to be different this time. He's a big guy now, sure, but he's still underage, and it's still a school trip. It's not like he can go around the city without the coach's supervision. </p><p>"Alright, gentlemen, shut up for a sec." Coach Coggins says, stern, surely convinced that he looks menacing with a hand around his whistle. The fuck is he going to do? Blow the damn thing in the middle of the hotel hall? "Most of y'all princesses asked me to not sort the room's arrangements alphabetically. So I'm just gonna stay out of it. Aguilar, pick your partner." </p><p>Aguilar gets this troubled expression on his face that has Steve rolling his eyes. Coach Coggins agrees with him. "You're just picking a roomie, Aguilar. You're not sending a mate to war." </p><p>Aguilar blushes, but finally picks Kinsley. </p><p>"Daniels. Your turn." </p><p>"I pick Zamora, coach." </p><p>"Delgado?" </p><p>"I pick Hagan, coach." </p><p>"Hargrove?" </p><p>"I want Harrington, coach." </p><p>Steve's head snaps to the sound of his name so fast it dizzies him. Billy's unbothered smile makes his blood boil. </p><p>Coach Coggins furrows his brow. "I don't want you kids killing each other under my supervision." </p><p>"Oh, you haven't heard? We're besties now." </p><p>"It's okay, coach." Steve says, partly because the coach doesn't seem convinced, like at all, -who can blame him, really- and partly because it really is okay. If Billy's idea to pass the time is annoy the fuck out of him, he might as well get on with it.</p><p>Besides, what other options does he have? I Got An Ugly Laugh And I Barely Shower Lancaster? </p><p>Blink Twice And I'll Steal Your Girl Medina? </p><p>Yeah, no. Steve'd rather Billy. </p><p>"Okay," Coach Coggins sighs. "Kaufman?" </p><p>Their rooms are on the sixth floor, his and Billy's number 612. It's nice. Small, but with enough space to fit two full size beds, a TV wall unit and a maroon sofa with curtains to match. There's also a mini-bar already calling to him. </p><p>"Don't even think about it," Billy warns, claiming a bed by throwing a suitcase on it as he follows Steve's gaze. "You rich kids love to waste daddy's money, huh?" </p><p>"I'm hungry, what do you want me to do? Starve to death?" </p><p>"Lunch's free, you can't wait?" </p><p>Of course he can wait. But now that he's got Billy all worked up, he just won't . </p><p>"No." He says, throws his own suitcases on the free bed and makes his way to the mini-bar. </p><p>"And what do you even need two suitcases for? What did you bring? Your jewelry collection?" </p><p>Steve ignores him, opens the mini-bar and decides for a packet of Cheddar Cheese Pringles. </p><p>"What do you want? My treat." Steve says, just to be an asshole, knows very well that Billy's going to grind his teeth and tell him about how he doesn't need your fucking charity, Harrington.  </p><p>But Billy just laughs. And it's not his mean laugh. "Not hungry, pretty boy. Thanks." </p><p>Steve resists the urge to cross his arms and throw a tantrum. He wants to scream, wants to understand why Billy is not reacting to his words. Instead, he clears his throat. "Anytime." </p><p>"I'm gonna take a shower," Billy informs him, rummaging through the clothes in his suitcase. </p><p>Steve nods, even though Billy is not looking at him, and collapses on his temporary bed to check his phone.</p><p><b>what's this fuckin glowstick lol</b> (13 new messages)</p><p>
  <b>robin</b>
</p><p>steve are u alive or did the plane crash  </p><p>
  <b>nancy</b>
</p><p>check Dummy H. stories</p><p>they landed safe and sound</p><p><b>robin</b> </p><p>DUMMY H. xnnsjfbsnfjdb  </p><p>
  <b>jonathan</b>
</p><p>can't believe tommy's not rooming with steve  </p><p>
  <b>robin</b>
</p><p>his hard on is for hargrove now, remember? steve's old news</p><p>
  <b>jonathan</b>
</p><p>not rooming with billy either… </p><p><b>robin</b> </p><p>YO </p><p>
  <b>nancy</b>
</p><p>what does that mean </p><p>steve are YOU rooming with billy? </p><p>
  <b>barb</b>
</p><p>why are we screaming</p><p>
  <b>nancy</b>
</p><p>steve's rooming with billy </p><p>
  <b>barb</b>
</p><p>YO </p><p>
  <b>steve</b>
</p><p>how did y'all come to that conclusion? there's twelve people in the team </p><p><b>barb</b> </p><p>oh my god you didn't deny it </p><p><b>robin</b> </p><p>YOU'RE SO ROOMING WITH BILLY </p><p><b>nancy</b> </p><p>this is the best thing that ever happened</p><p>enemies to lovers troop arises </p><p><b>jonathan</b> </p><p>what are you women even talking about</p><p>
  <b>steve</b>
</p><p>nonsense</p><p>"Harrington," Steve hears Billy say, and he sounds annoyed, like he had to repeat it because Steve didn't catch it the first time. </p><p>Steve doesn't bother to look up from his phone. "Hm?"</p><p>"I asked you if I can borrow your shampoo? The bathroom only has a bar of soap." </p><p><b>robin</b> </p><p>jo, don't you think billy and steve need to **** ** *** </p><p>
  <b>jonathan</b>
</p><p>what </p><p>
  <b>barb</b>
</p><p>YES </p><p>"Yeah, 'course. It's in the medium pocket of my grey suitcase." </p><p>Billy grunts a heated 'thanks' in response, gets the shampoo and slams the bathroom door behind him. Steve smiles, satisfied.  </p><p>
  <b>steve</b>
</p><p>he hates me so much it's HILARIOUS </p><p><b>barb</b> </p><p>i mean, it's not like you don't give him daily reasons not to</p><p><b>jonathan</b> </p><p>wait so you are actually rooming with him?</p><p><b>robin</b> </p><p>duh </p><p>
  <b>steve</b>
</p><p>yeah, he picked me </p><p>can you believe?</p><p>
  <b>nancy</b>
</p><p>yes </p><p>
  <b>jonathan</b>
</p><p>yes </p><p><b>barb</b> </p><p>yes</p><p><b>robin</b> </p><p>yes</p><p>Steve doesn't know how it happens, but he soon gets bored and the sound of the shower running kind of lulls him back to sleep. </p><p>He wakes up to an empty room, and groans when he checks the time on his watch. 2:57 pm. Great. He just missed lunch, and of course Billy left without waking him up, because he's a full-time asshole- </p><p>His train of thought gets suddenly interrupted when he notices a plate with two fat chicken sandwiches sitting on the nightstand next to his bed. There's a warm feeling expanding in his chest now that Steve wishes he could stab. He gets mad at himself, mostly because he doesn't know what else to do. He could text Billy to thank him, but it's not like he has his number, so. </p><p>He takes angry bites, pretending it's the sandwich's fault. And maybe it fucking is. </p><p>It's an hour and a half later that Billy deigns to return to their room, just when Steve was starting to think he had misheard the coach saying 'enjoy your day off and rest, boys!' and there was actually an activity planned that Steve olympically missed. He pauses the movie he's been watching and straightens his back against the mountains of pillows he's made combining his and the ones he stole from Billy's bed. </p><p>"Where have you been?" </p><p>Billy turns on the light and now Steve can see his raised eyebrow. "Excuse me?" </p><p>"You're excused."</p><p>"I-" Billy starts, then stops short when his eyes catch the paused movie on the TV. "Were you watching Chicken Little?" </p><p>"No," Steve rolls his eyes, like Billy's being ridiculous. There's a voice inside his head telling him that he's the one being ridiculous, that this is the most ridiculous he has been since he tried to hit on Robin, but he doesn't know how to stop. "And you didn't answer my question." </p><p>"Jesus Christ, I was in the gym, the fuck do you care?" </p><p>"I don't!" </p><p>"Then act like it." </p><p>"Maybe I will!"</p><p>"Fine by me." </p><p>Steve's not sure why he's not being punched by now, and he's getting frustrated. </p><p>Billy's shirtless, slightly panting, his sweat is making the material of his basketball shorts cling to his thighs and his necklace stick to his chest and Steve needs him to straddle his lap and beat the shit out of him. </p><p>Is that a weird thing to ask for? </p><p>"Your hair looks dumb, by the way." </p><p>That's a lie, and an unfair one. Billy's hair always looks good, but now he's got it tied up in a man bun and it looks better than ever. </p><p>Steve bites the inside of his cheek with enough force to taste the blood on his tongue. </p><p>"I don't know why you're so determined to die, but it's not gonna work. Can't mess up that pretty face of yours before the very first game, now can I?" Billy's voice is so calm it sends a chill down Steve's spine. "If you're still feeling suicidal back in Indiana, I'll be happy to have my way with you <em> again </em>. Until then, I suggest you to get some fresh air and jerk off as much as you need to get the bitch out of you. Have I made myself clear?" </p><p>It's humiliating, how fast Steve nods his head. How fast Steve vigorously nods his head. No wonder why people at school went from 'great party, King Steve!' to 'glad Hargrove put your ass in place, King Steve!' </p><p>When Billy smiles, it looks almost sweet. "Good boy."</p><p>Steve's blood runs hot. Every pump through his veins burn, it fucking <em> aches</em>. His heartbeat has picked up an erratic pace that leaves him struggling for air. </p><p>Either Billy doesn't notice or doesn't care enough to point it out, he just grabs a towel from his suitcase and locks himself in the bathroom again. </p><p>Steve waits until he hears the sound of the water running to stand up on shaky legs and make his way to the balcony. His hands are shaking, too, he has a hard time trying to lit a cigarette but it's oh so worth it after the first drag. </p><p>What the hell is wrong with me? </p><p>He's so aroused he feels warm all over, if he didn't know any better he'd think he's coming down with something. He does know better, though. And like, sure. He's coming down with something alright. </p><p>He's resumed watching Chicken Little by the time Billy comes out of the bathroom smelling like Steve's fucking Vanilla Milk &amp; Papaya extracts shampoo. Steve's feeling a lot less suicidal so he doesn't even chance a look towards Billy's direction, grabs his own towel and his most comfortable clothes and takes the coldest shower he's taken since the day Billy first showed up to a basketball practice and grinded into him for a whole minute while grunting half-assed insults in his ear. And. Steve hates Billy for more reasons than one, but that, right there, is number one: Billy Hargrove was Steve's fucking gay -bisexual- awakening. </p><p>Steve should call his parents and cry into the receiver until one of them feels bad and comes to get him. Instead, he takes a big gulp of air, walks right past Billy's sleeping figure, and gets the fuck out of that room. </p><p>"Harrington!" Tommy exclaims, making all the heads around him turn to look at Steve. Half the team is there, playing a game of pool that looks boring even from where Steve's standing. "Where's the boyfriend?" </p><p>And that's… daring. Considering said <em> boyfriend </em> could knock the living daylights out of him. </p><p>"Why? You wanna crawl back up his ass?" </p><p>Aaron Delgado snorts a laugh. Tommy elbows him in the ribs. "Very funny, King Steve." </p><p>"Well? Don't stop on my account, boys. That game looks promising." </p><p>"Wanna join?" </p><p>"Nah," Steve takes a sip of the delicious non-alcoholic cocktail the woman at the hotel bar has just prepared for him. A Mojito mocktail, she said. "I'd rather go back to my room and stare at the ceiling until it's dinner time." </p><p>"Well? Don't stop on our account, then." Tommy's smile is all sharp teeth. "That a pity, though. Kaufman here said he has something you want." </p><p>"And that involves you because?" </p><p>"Because I want it, too. And there's not enough for the both of us." </p><p>Steve turns his gaze to Kaufman, who's wearing a practiced sheepish expression over his face. "I asked first, man." </p><p>"I know! But Tommy's my friend-" </p><p>"And I don't give a flying fuck-" </p><p>"Harrington, it's simple. You beat me, you get the weed." Tommy says, points at the pool table with the tip of his cue. "If I win, well. You know." </p><p>"That's not fair, Tommy." </p><p>It really is not fair. Tommy's father owns a successful company that manufactures freaking pool tables, for fuck's sake. </p><p>"Life ain't fair, Steve. You in?" </p><p>Of course he loses. It was, like, the fucking Chronicle of a Death Foretold. Steve wonders if Billy has read that book. </p><p>Steve wonders what the hell is Tommy even going to do with that weed, asshole can't take two hits without falling asleep. He's so angry he wants to hide his face in a pillow and scream at the top of his lungs. He can't, because Billy is right there, looking at him like he's grown a second head. </p><p>"What are you looking at?" </p><p>"Uh, you? Or do you expect me to act like you didn't just bang the door?" </p><p>Steve scoffs. He's not in the mood for Billy and his hallucinations. He walks to his bed and slumps down on it without a care in the world.  </p><p>He doesn't understand why this is happening to him, of all people. He's a thousand miles away from home with people he doesn't even like to play a tournament of a sport he doesn't even care about, and he was so looking forward Kaufman's weed. </p><p>What is he going to do now? It's the first day and he feels like he could combust already. He can't get drunk, because he's underage. And he can't jerk off, thank you <em> very much </em>Billy, because he's got to share the room and he's not a fucking pervert. </p><p>Steve turns to his side and faces Billy. He's sitting cross-legged on his own bed, wearing a new pair of shorts and a lilac t-shirt. He's got his phone trapped in his big hands and his hair is still tied up in that stupid manbun.</p><p>"Hi." </p><p>"Hey," Billy says, amused smile tugging a the corner of his lips. "Wanna tell me what happened out there?" </p><p>"Have you read The Chronicle of a Death Foretold?" </p><p>"I- what?"</p><p>"The Chronicle of a Death Foretold," Steve repeats. "Have you read it?" </p><p>"You talking about the book by Garcia Marquez?" Steve shrugs, because he doesn't fucking know. "Yeah, I have. Magical realism is a must for Cali schools. Why?" </p><p>"I lost weed in a game of pool." </p><p>Billy blinks. "I don't think I'm following." </p><p>"Right. So. Forget Garcia Mendez." </p><p>"Garcia Marquez." </p><p>"Right. Forget him." </p><p>"Forgotten." </p><p>"So yesterday Jeremy Kaufman told me he'd sell me some weed for the trip, right? And Tommy wanted it too so he was like 'let's play for it.' And he beat me." </p><p>"Duh. Tommy beats everyone at pool." </p><p>Steve hides his face in the pillow, then, but doesn't scream at the top of his lungs. Just wallows. "What am I going to do? Should I die? </p><p>Billy lets out this contagious chuckle that has Steve wondering if it was for his misery or for the way the pillow muffled his words. Either way, he's pretty damn sure making Billy laugh is the best thing he's done all day. </p><p>He hears Billy getting out of bed and rummaging through stuff. Just when Steve's about to ask him what the fuck is he doing, his own mattress suddenly sinks, making him yelp and grab onto something for dear life. </p><p>"Fucking hell, Harrington. It's just me." Steve blushes, because of course it is, who else would it be? </p><p>His eyes fly open and he notices, horrorized, that the something he just grabbed is Billy's thigh. "You're really easy to scare, huh?" </p><p>Billy's teasing. Billy's teasing and he seems unbothered about Steve's hand still grabbing his thigh. Why is Steve's hand still grabbing his thigh? </p><p>"I-" </p><p>"Here," Billy produces a perfectly-rolled fat joint and waves it in front of Steve's face. "This shit is better than Kaufman's." </p><p>Steve swallows hard. "You wanna? Now?" </p><p>"It's yours, pretty boy." Billy grins, presses the joint into Steve's free hand and gets up. Just like that. Steve's fingertips jerk around nothing, missing the heat of Billy's skin already. "Do whatever you want with it." </p><p>Billy's making his way to the door now, and Steve can't help but feel like something is wrong. Like something has gone wrong. "But-" </p><p>"You got a complaint?" </p><p>"No! Thank you, I just-" Steve worries his bottom lip between his teeth. Billy's hand tightens around the doorknob. "I just thought we'd share, that's all." </p><p>Billy struggles for a minute, then finally opens the door. "I've got stuff to do. That okay?" </p><p>"Yeah, 'course," Steve says, even though it's not okay. Billy's lying to get away from him, and he doesn't know why. "Thanks again." </p><p>"Anytime." </p><p>Steve gets high to stop himself from getting sad and it doesn't work, he ends up high and sad. He's thinking about a lot stuff he doesn't dare to think about while he's sober, and at some point he has to stop smoking because he feels like he could be having a panic attack.</p><p>He kind of wants to laugh, like. Did he seriously just waste weed in being sad? Screw his hysterical outburst of earlier, <em> this </em> is the most ridiculous he's been since he tried to hit on Robin. </p><p>Which reminds him. </p><p>
  <b>steve</b>
</p><p>can u please convince my dad to come and get me</p><p>
  <b>robin</b>
</p><p>okay, first of all, what? </p><p>second of all, WHAT? </p><p>
  <b>steve</b>
</p><p>i can't stand it</p><p>
  <b>robin</b>
</p><p>you can't stand what, exactly, Dingus? </p><p>
  <b>steve</b>
</p><p>being close to him</p><p><b>robin</b> </p><p>are you under the influence of drugs? </p><p>
  <b>steve</b>
</p><p>yeah i'm stoned as fuck</p><p>why</p><p>
  <b>robin</b>
</p><p>you wouldn't have said that if you weren't </p><p>what happened? </p><p>
  <b>steve</b>
</p><p>nothing</p><p>nothing happened but he makes me fucking crazy</p><p>i'm scared i might do something dumb like punch him</p><p><b>robin</b> </p><p>that would be downright stupid </p><p>
  <b>steve</b>
</p><p>i wanna go home</p><p>
  <b>robin</b>
</p><p>honey, it'll be okay. you're just really high right now</p><p>it's just six days, hang in there </p><p>
  <b>steve</b>
</p><p>i'll hang myself</p><p><b>robin</b> </p><p>shut up </p><p>i love you</p><p>
  <b>steve</b>
</p><p>love you too </p><p>There's still an hour left until dinner, and he has nothing better to do, so he sets up an alarm and starts to drift off. If Barb was there, she'd say he's the most Taurean of the Taureans, and he'd pretend he understands what she's talking about. </p><p>Billy is a Scorpio. Steve has no idea what that means, but still. He wonders if it's weird that he remembers Billy's birthday. November 11, like Leo DiCaprio. </p><p>He has a weird dream featuring Barb and Billy and zodiac stuff, but there's carne asada for dinner, and he forgets. </p><p>First thing in the morning Coach Coggins reveals the oh-so-awaited Sweet 16 schedule for the tournament. </p><p>El Camino High School vs. Hawkins High School. 4:00 pm. </p><p>It's an easy win. The opponent is inexperienced and Billy scores 6 three-pointers, fucking machine sends two El Camino players back home crying. Steve was tempted to ask them what, exactly, were they crying about. They lost the game the minute they stepped on the court. </p><p>Coach Coggins takes them to the beach to celebrate. He's so happy he makes them promise to not say a word, and lets Lucas Schultz use a fake ID to buy them booze. The wind and the sand are not that annoying when you get drunk on cheap vodka. </p><p>The tug at his chest every time Billy's eyes meet his is even more annoying when you get drunk on cheap vodka. </p><p>Steve finds himself bonding with Benjamin Daniels because the guy is the only one not fluttering about Billy's personal space to inflate his ego with corny praise, and he shares his booze when Steve's runs out. Benjamin is also left-handed. And that's- they don't talk about that, but still. Coach Coggins once said lefties must stick together.</p><p>"You still with that chick?" Steve asks, he's talking to a straight seventeen year old guy so it's either girls or cars and Steve drives, sure, but that doesn't mean he can tell a Chevrolet and a Volkswagen apart. "Sarah?" </p><p>"Yeah. Crazy about her, man." Benjamin says with this dreamy look on his face that makes Steve smile because, shit, must be nice. "What about you?" </p><p>"What about me?" </p><p>"You seeing anyone?" Steve accepts the hip flask he's being handed and takes a big gulp, suddenly feels that he needs the burn in his throat like he needs the fucking air. Considers lying for a solid minute, asks himself okay, why? and finally shakes his head no. Benjamin lets out an amused laugh. "I remember when that's all you'd do, <em> King Steve</em>." </p><p>Steve snorts. "That's not true. I also bullied people who were smarter than me." </p><p>"Right, sorry. Didn't mean to defame you." </p><p>"Not cool, <em> Wally</em>." </p><p>"Oh my God. That was in middle school. How do you even remember that?" </p><p>"Harrington," A voice from above them says, Steve's head jerks involuntarily to the sound of it. Billy looks irritated, but doesn't he always? "I'm heading back to the hotel." </p><p>"Okay?" </p><p>"Hey man, good game." Billy ignores Benjamin's outstretched hand, which, <em> rude</em>, and just glares at him before returning his attention to Steve, which, <em> rudder</em>. </p><p>"You're not coming with?"</p><p>Steve wants to say yes, and that's how he knows that he should say no. Billy's words sound challenging, they translate to Steve's ears to 'I dare you to say no'. </p><p>"Nah, I'll stay. See you later." </p><p>Billy's jaw visibly clenches, but he doesn't push. He never pushes. Mutters something under his breath that Steve fails to catch, and starts to walk away. </p><p>Steve has to hug his trembling, yearning legs close to his chest to not take off after him. </p><p>"Huh. What was that?" </p><p>"Don't mind him. He's a total asshole." </p><p>"No, I mean what was that with you? You guys fighting or something?" </p><p>Steve blinks. "We're always fighting." </p><p>"Well yes but it's like, an internal joke or something. You're actually friends, right?" </p><p>Steve can't blame the guy, gets that his and Billy's relationship must be kind of confusing for an outsider. One minute Billy's got his hands around Steve's neck ready to strangle him to death, and the next minute he's making him a chicken sandwich. Clearly good friends just joking around makes a lot more sense than enemies with a soft spot for each other. </p><p>But the thing is. Steve can't explain their fucked up dynamics to Benjamin because he's not sure he understands it himself. So he lies. </p><p>"Yeah, we're friends." </p><p>Benjamin nods, glances in the direction in which Billy just left. "He didn't sound like he was joking now, though." </p><p>"He gets like that when I'm not giving him attention. Don't worry." </p><p>"Really?" Benjamin asks, and he's flashing a shit-eating grin now that has Steve's heart picking up its pace. "I thought that was your job." </p><p>Steve feels all the blood in his body rush to his face until it reaches the tip of his ears. "Shut up." </p><p>By the time Coach Coggins decides to call it a day, Steve is practically crawling in his skin. He's drunk and bored and trying not to think about Billy, and it turns out that it‘s not a good combination. He can't get drunk and not think about Billy. He can't get bored and not think about Billy. </p><p>He just can't not think about Billy. </p><p><em>I don't know</em>, he remembers Jonathan saying<em> you get all weird when it comes to him</em>. </p><p>It's past dinner time when Steve makes it back to the hotel, and even though there's so much alcohol in his system it doesn't seem like he could fit any solid in, he knows he's gonna have the world's worst hangover if he doesn't. So he staggers to the dining room, eager to spend his -father's- money in an overpriced, unnecessarily fancy dish. </p><p>He's having a hard time trying to decide between the Slow-Simmered Burgundy Beef Stew and the Bacon-Wrapped Pesto Pork Tenderloin, and then Tommy H. pulls a Robin and appears from out of nowhere to make Steve's life even more difficult. </p><p>"Steve? What are you doing here?" </p><p>Steve looks down to the menu he's holding in his hands, then up at Tommy's face again. "Playing Chess. Wanna join?" </p><p>Tommy huffs. "You keep getting funnier, huh?"</p><p>"What are <em>you</em> doing here? Didn't you stay behind because you fainted during the game like a dainty flower?" </p><p>"Let me remind you that I'm hypotensive, asshole. I'm not used to hot temperatures like these," Steve hums, bites his tongue to not tell Tommy how little he cares about his dainty flower's problems. "But to answer your question, I'm here to get a new bottle of Gatorade. What, you didn't like the food your boyfriend got you?" </p><p>Steve closes the menu at this, blinks at Tommy's stupid smug expression. "What are you talking about?" </p><p>"Billy left with an extra bowl of tuna salad after dinner. And unless he was really fucking hungry, I'm pretty sure it was for you."</p><p>It's a lot of information for Intoxicated Steve to take in. Sober Steve may be able to hear shit like that and pretend like he's unbothered, but Intoxicated Steve? Well. His emotions are suddenly, like, there . All over the place. Painting the warmest colors on his face, running a fucking marathon on his lungs, for Tommy, of all people, to see. And Tommy sees. And frowns.</p><p>“Uh, Earth to Harrington? Are you having a stroke?" </p><p>"Fuck, I might be." Steve says, uses the menu to fan himself. Jesus Christ. Did they turn the air conditioner off? Tommy seems to be about to open his mouth again, so Steve beats him. "Are you sure?" </p><p>"About the stroke? Well, of course not, I was joking! Holy shit. Do you want me to call a doctor? You're sweating like a pig-" </p><p>"Tommy!" Steve interrupts him, and it takes all of his willpower to not hit him in the head with the menu. "I'm fine! I meant about the tuna salad!” </p><p>"Oh?" Tommy frowns again, clearly lost. "Yeah? What's the big deal?" </p><p>"There's no big deal. It's not a big deal," Steve's voice wavers like it is, in fact, a big deal. "Who said it was a big deal? You think it's a big deal?" </p><p>"Oh my God. Have you lost your mind?" </p><p>"I-" Steve starts. Reformulates. "Good night!" </p><p>There are people waiting for the elevator so Steve takes the stairs and climbs the six floors. He enters the room swearing, gasping for air, regretting having called Tommy a dainty flower because he feels a second away from fainting now, and- </p><p>And Billy is smiling. Billy is smiling real big. Billy is sitting in the middle of his bed, phone in hand, and he's smiling real big at the screen. </p><p>"You're so gross, Billy!"</p><p>That's Max's voice. Steve's hosted enough movie nights for the brats to know their voices by heart. She makes exaggerated gagging sounds that have Billy laughing, all dimpled cheeks and crinkly eyes. </p><p>Billy is sitting in the middle of his bed, phone in hand, and he's facetiming his little sister. </p><p>The realization makes Steve go weak at the knees. He's sure he's going to die, or pass out at the very least. Or maybe he’s going to pass out first, then hit his head hard and finally he will die. A couple of officers will take Billy to the police station to interrogate him about his roommate's sudden, tragic death, and Steve will come down from heaven and tell them 'it <em>is</em> him! He's my murderer! Lock him the hell up!' </p><p>He decides to surrender to his unavoidable destiny and, like, lies down on the dirty carpet of the room. Right there and then. </p><p>It's enough to get Billy's attention. "Holy fuck- <em> Steve</em>? Are you okay?" </p><p>Steve wants to say no, and that's how he knows that he should say yes. Billy doesn't give him the chance to answer, though, he's on Steve in lighting speed as he keeps asking stupid questions like should I call the coach and what does it hurt as if it isn't fucking obvious. </p><p>Like, no, don't call the coach. Why would you do that? And it’s my heart that hurts, but it's actually your fault, and I guess your responsibility now. Crazy, huh? </p><p>Steve doesn't say that. Steve doesn't say anything. </p><p>"Christ. You’re hammered, aren't you?" </p><p>"Billy? What the hell is going on there?" </p><p>Max's voice again. She sounds distant now, so distant that Billy ignores her. </p><p>“Steve,” Billy insists. “I need you to say something, man. I’m kind of freaking out here.” </p><p>“You know we’re never going to win this stupid tournament, right?” </p><p>Billy’s mouth falls open, a relieved huff of laughter slipping out of it. “What?” </p><p>Steve looks right into Billy’s eyes, right into Billy’s painfully crystal blue eyes, and sighs. “We got, like, zero chances against Palmdale.” </p><p>“Why do you always say the most random shit?” </p><p>“It’s a gift.” </p><p>Billy rolls his eyes, uses the grip he’s got on Steve’s shoulders when he was trying to bring him back to life as leverage to put himself off the floor. He addresses Steve from the distance he created between them for what it feels a hot minute, then holds his hand out for Steve to take and helps him back on his feet. </p><p>“You stink of vodka.” </p><p>Steve tucks his nose in the sweaty and salty and gross material of his t-shirt and sniffs . “No I don’t?” </p><p>“The smell of alcohol comes out of your pores, pretty boy. Not your clothes.” </p><p>“Right,” Steve says, feels the sudden urge to throw up the cheap vodka and his dumb words and his dumber feelings. “God, I’m sorry. I’m so embarrassing.” </p><p>“You’re just drunk,” It’s Billy’s choice of words, and it’s nice and all, but it’s also the poorest excuse to come up with and Billy knows that . Billy knows that because Billy knows <em>him</em>. Billy knows Steve better than Steve himself, probably, knows exactly when to press and when to concede and Steve fucking hates him for that. Fucking hates him in general. Fuck. “I brought you some food. It’s hot as the hobs of hell in here so I put it in the mini fridge.” </p><p>“You gotta stop that.” </p><p>“Gotta stop what?” Billy asks, but he’s not even looking at Steve anymore, too busy tapping away on his phone. </p><p>“Will you please put that damn thing down and pay attention to me?” </p><p>Billy does just that, eyeing Steve warily. “I was just telling Max-”</p><p>“I don’t care!” </p><p>“The fuck’s gotten into you, Harrington?” Uh oh. Last name basis again. Billy looks angry, but his voice is still calm and it’s all so confusing that Steve only wants to collapse on his four-star bed and sleep it off. “Why are you being so goddamn difficult?” </p><p>“Why are you being so goddamn weird!?” </p><p>“Me? Weird? What are you talking about?” </p><p>“I’m talking about this!” Steve exclaims, frantically signaling between the two of them. “<em> Why </em> are you not yelling? Why are you not cornering me against one of these fucking walls!?” </p><p>“Because!” Billy huffs, honest to God <em> huffs</em>, and runs a hand through his hair. “Because maybe I’m tired of fighting with you, okay? We’re thousands of miles away from home in a literal beach paradise, can’t we just act like normal people do?” </p><p>“No!” Steve’s throat feels raw, like every sharp word ends up slitting it while trying to get out, making it bleed sour venom. “You don’t feel it? You don’t feel this… this tension between us growing more and more?”</p><p>“Of course I do, but fighting is not going to solve shit! We’ve been through this,” They have. They’ve only gotten physical once, and it was bad. It was ugly. They both wanted to hurt then. Steve wants to hurt now. “If you only tried to ignore-”</p><p>“I can’t.” Steve cuts in, voice trembling and fists clenching. He swallows back tears and then tastes them on his tongue. “I really can’t. You’re so deep under my skin you make me see red, Billy. And I can’t- I mean I really don’t want to fight but I need you to, like, throw me around for a bit, please-”</p><p>When Billy gets his hands on him, it’s nothing like Steve expected. Steve was expecting a shove, a punch. He was expecting Billy’s rough hands breaking his feverish skin. </p><p>But Billy doesn’t shove, doesn’t punch. And Billy’s hands are rough, yeah, but his fingertips feel like drops of honey as they tenderly cup around Steve’s face. </p><p>Time stops along with Steve’s heart. </p><p>“I don’t want to hurt you,” Billy says, and it sounds both like a plea and a question, ‘I don’t want to hurt you, can I please not hurt you?’ Steve holds his breath until his lungs burn. “Jesus. You really don’t like me, do you?” </p><p>“Billy-”</p><p>“I get it,” Billy sighs and removes his hands from Steve’s face. “Really, I do. I made a mistake by choosing you as my roomie, I apologize.”</p><p>“Billy,” Steve tries again. “What did you mean when you asked me if I really don’t like you?” </p><p>“I said I get it, Steve. Can’t we just move the fuck on already?” </p><p>“No! Tell me what did you mean! We don’t like each other, what’s new?” </p><p>Billy laughs, and this time it is his mean laugh. Steve spent two whole days looking for it, and now that he’s found it, now that it’s thrown in his face, he realizes that he hasn’t missed it.</p><p>“Right. We don’t like each other. I guess I just  forgot.”</p><p>“How could you-” Steve starts, but Billy makes his way to the bathroom like he’s not even being talked to, and slams the door so hard Steve fucking flinches. “See? That’s exactly why I don’t like you. You’re authoritarian and rude as fuck.” </p><p>“Oh, yeah?” Billy yells from the bathroom. </p><p>“Yeah! And you’re a Scorpio! Nobody likes Scorpios!” </p><p>“Fuck off, Harrington.” </p><p>“That’s exactly what I was planning on doing!” Steve yells back, because he has no instinct of self-preservation and doesn’t know when to stop. “And don’t expect me to come back!” </p><p>“Fine by me!” </p><p>“<em>Finer </em> by me!” </p><p>Steve gets his tuna salad and goes back to the dining room, hoping that Tommy is still there to project his frustrations on him. Not to be an asshole, it’s just that it’s kind of Tommy’s fault. Like, if Tommy wasn’t there to buy his stupid Gatorade, then Steve would have eaten his fancy dish in the dining room and Billy would have probably fallen asleep by the time he came back. So, Tommy deserves it. And, sure, Steve’s also an asshole. </p><p>But of course Tommy’s not there, and of course Steve comes back to that damned room, because what is Billy expecting him to do? Sleep in the hallway? The last thing Billy said to him was ‘finer is not even a word’ so Steve’s not sure of where they stand, but he walks past Billy’s bed and gets on his anyway. </p><p>If Billy is still awake, he’s good at pretending he’s not.</p><p>The next game is against twelve idiots from Mount Carmel High School and Steve is officially tired of cocky Cali boys. </p><p>Mount Carmel is not as easy as El Camino but Hawkins still got Billy Hargrove so they pass the Elite Eight round and make it to the Final Four. Sweet. Two more games and then they’d be flying home. </p><p>“You don’t sound excited.” Robin says when Steve’s finished narrating the game for her. </p><p>“That’s because I’m not.” </p><p>“Dingus! You guys are doing a fantastic performance at the tournament, what else do you want?” </p><p>“I just want to go home,” Steve whines, presses the phone more firmly against his ear. “This sucks.” </p><p>“You and Billy are fighting again, aren’t you?” Robin accuses in her know-it-all voice. “What happened know?” </p><p>Steve sighs. “I fucked up. Big time.” </p><p>“Oh God. Don’t tell me you punched him.” </p><p>“Nah. It’s worse than that, though.” </p><p>“Honey, you’re good. It can’t be worse than that.” </p><p>“I came wasted to our room, called him out for saving me food and then asked him to hit me.” </p><p>“Oh. Okay-” </p><p>“I also called him authoritarian and rude and said that nobody likes Scorpios.”</p><p>“Please stop talking before I take a plane to California and make you regret every word,” That won’t be necessary, considering Steve started regretting every word he said to Billy as soon as they left his mouth. Robin doesn’t need to know that, though. “I have a lot of questions but I guess I’ll go with why ?”</p><p>“Because I’m an idiot?” </p><p>“Oh, please don’t doubt it. You are a complete idiot.” Steve rolls his eyes, wishes they were facetiming so Robin could see him. “Steve, you have to tell him. This is getting out of control.” </p><p>“Tell him what, exactly?” </p><p>Steve swears he can hear Robin hesitating from the way she feeds the silence that settles on the line. He’s almost sure he’s not going to get an answer when Robin speaks up. “You know what.”</p><p>“No, I really don’t. Please enlighten me.” </p><p>“You know what- forget it. It’s impossible to talk to you when you get like this.” </p><p>“Like this?” </p><p>“Difficult,” Robin explains with a sigh and, woah, Steve seriously hates that word. “What did he even say after all that crap?”</p><p>“Not much. First he was like ‘I don’t want to hurt you’ and then he asked me if I really didn’t like him, and-”</p><p>“What did you say?” </p><p>“Huh?” </p><p>“When he asked you if you really didn’t like him, Steve. Gee, you’re slow today.” </p><p>“Hey!” Steve protests, but it’s half-assed because she’s right. “I just said ‘we don’t like each other, what’s new?’” </p><p>“Oh my God.” </p><p>“What?” </p><p>“Okay. Hold on to your seats because you’re about to get blown away,” Steve dumbly clenches his free hand around the sheets. “But Billy? Billy Hargrove? He <em>does</em> like you. And that’s why he’s mad at you.” </p><p>Steve has to bite his tongue to prevent himself from scoffing, bites it so hard he swallows the metallic taste of his blood. </p><p>“Rob, don’t be ridiculous.” </p><p>“Did I stutter?” </p><p>“You must have! You just- you just can’t be serious right now. We hate each other, we always have!” </p><p>“Oh, that’s what you guys been doing all this time? Hating each other?” And Robin is not nice, she scoffs, unabashedly, she doesn’t even try to not to. She wants Steve to feel stupid, she’s talking to Steve like he’s stupid, and Steve is starting to think that he really is. “Look. It’s obvious that you have a lot of introspection to do to work this out, and I can’t help you with that.” </p><p>“That’s why you’re my number one call.” Steve teases.</p><p>“Shut up. You want me to put Barb on the phone instead? Or Jonathan?” </p><p>“You know I don’t,” He can practically see Robin beaming. “Nancy, on the other hand…” </p><p>“Okay. I’m going to hang up now.”</p><p>“Aw, I love it when you get all jealous-”</p><p>“Call Nancy next time. Bye.” </p><p>Steve is still laughing a whole minute after Robin ended the phone call, and then Billy is back from God knows where and, just like that, the moment is gone. The atmosphere gets dense in a matter of seconds, tension filling every step that’s separating them. </p><p>“Coach is taking the team to the beach,” Billy announces, making his way to where he left his suitcase. Steve nods, distractedly, and Billy catches it just in time. “You’re not going?” </p><p>“Are you?” </p><p>“No.” </p><p>“Then yes.” </p><p>Billy huffs, but other than that he doesn’t react to Steve’s words. “Suit yourself.” </p><p>Laying on bed, listening to Billy wandering around the bathroom, Steve wonders if he’s felt anything other than frustration in the past three days. He feels mad at Billy, but he feels mad at Billy because he’s mad at himself, and he has to do something about it before he loses his goddamn mind. </p><p>Maybe Billy was right, when he suggested that Steve should jerk off ‘as much as you need to take the bitch out of you’. Maybe that’s all he needs. Maybe he can be quick- </p><p>The door of the bathroom suddenly flies open and Steve yanks his hand away from where it was leading. Jesus fucking Christ. </p><p>“Weren’t you headed to the beach?” </p><p>
  <em>I was actually headed to release after the worst three days of my life. Thank you though. </em>
</p><p>“Weren’t you headed to the shower?” </p><p>“I need to borrow your shampoo.” </p><p>Billy says it in such a low voice that Steve almost doesn’t hear him. Almost. He grins. “What was that?” </p><p>“You heard me, Harrington.” Billy snarls. </p><p>“Take it, you know where it is. What’s mine is yours, baby.” </p><p>Billy tells him how much of an asshole he is, which makes Steve grin even harder, and takes the shampoo before disappearing in the bathroom again. </p><p>Laying on bed, listening to the shower running, Steve wonders how many hours a day does Billy spend under a spray of water. He’s tempted to text Barb, ask her if it has something to do with Billy being a water sign and all, but he’s not ready to give up on his last ounce of dignity just yet. </p><p>He falls asleep instead.</p><p>Steve would have never expected Billy Hargrove to be tender while waking someone up. And the thing is, Billy is not only tender, Billy’s also patient, and doesn’t seem to care about Steve’s grumpiness. Steve appreciates it, but he appreciates his naps a little bit more, so he can’t exactly be blamed for being pissed off. </p><p>Without explaining what the fuck is going on, Billy forces Steve out of bed and makes him get changed to ‘go out.’ Steve doesn’t tell him he doesn’t want to go, because lying hasn’t been working for him lately. So he gets changed and even brushes his teeth and follows Billy out of the hotel, even though Coach Coggins has said in a very stern voice ‘no wandering around the city without my supervision or you’ll get suspended when we get back home.’ </p><p>Steve is not sure if he impulsively trusts Billy, or if he impulsively doesn’t give a fuck about Coach Coggins’ suspension. Either way, he doesn’t say a word as he walks by Billy’s side down San Diego’s unfamiliar yet more than welcome warm streets.</p><p>He starts to panic, though, when he sees Billy hailing a taxi. </p><p>“Billy! Are you crazy?” Steve hisses, knowing damn well that he should, no, <em> must </em> go back to the hotel right now. He doesn’t. “We can’t get too far or Coggins will find out!” </p><p>“Yeah and when he does, who is he gonna call? My dead parents or your neglectful ones?” </p><p>“You asshole, this is not about them! This is we, as you and me, getting locked down until 2030.” Billy still doesn’t seem to care, tries his luck with another taxi since the first one didn’t even look in their direction. “<em>Billy</em>. You need a scholarship.” </p><p>“Do I?”</p><p>“I can’t believe you’re being like this.”</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“Difficult!” </p><p>Second taxi decides to pull over. “Look, I don’t plan on getting too far, the taxi is just to make it quicker. They won’t be back until dinner time. And you don’t have to come with me. But, like. I want you to.” </p><p>Steve knows he can’t say no to Billy -<em>who </em>can say no to Billy is the question- but he still pretends to think about it. Just to prove a point, or whatever. The decision is made for him when taximan honks the horn like he’s been waiting for half an hour. </p><p>Once in the back seats, Billy says: “To Old Town, please.”</p><p>It’s a ten minute drive, thank God Billy wasn’t lying about not getting too far because Steve would’ve still followed him to the other side of California, and while Billy pays the driver Steve wanders around. He loves the place already, all full of color and flowers and life. </p><p>“My mom used to bring me here every week,” Billy appears from behind him, startles Steve a bit though he doesn’t seem to notice. “It was the first European settlement in California.”</p><p>“Wow,” Steve says, certainly for lack of something better to say. The whole ‘mommy and I used to come here every week’ kind of got him. “It’s really cool.” </p><p>“And you’ve seen nothing yet,” Billy smiles, excitement gleaming in his eyes. Steve never wanted to kiss someone so badly in his entire, miserable life. “Learned a lot of spanish here.” </p><p>“Wait, you can speak spanish?” </p><p>“Por supuesto que puedo, amigo.” </p><p>And, shit. Steve doesn’t know what the fuck Billy just said but he did get one thing: cliche californian accents <em> can </em>make someone horny. He needs to tell Robin about this.</p><p>“Okay. We don’t have much time so I’m thinking about Toby’s Candle and Soap, La Casa De Estudillo, a margarita at Casa de Reyes and the Historic Park. Sounds good?” </p><p>“Sounds amazing,” Steve answers without hesitation, he’s actually more scared about someone pinching his arm and waking him up than he’s scared about Coach Coggins finding out about his and Billy’s little trip. Way more scared.</p><p>“Sweet, let’s go!” </p><p>At Toby’s they make their own candles and Steve discovers he’s pretty good at it, even the guy who works there says he’s a natural. What would his father say if Steve told him he’s interested in a future in candle-making? Billy asks for him to stop bragging as he struggles against the ugliest starfish-shaped candle in history. </p><p>La Casa del Estudillo is a museum in which they learn about traditional spanish architecture. Steve was sure he’d bore to death but he ends up having even more fun than at Toby’s. The house was built in the 1820’s and is now one of the oldest surviving examples of a typical Spanish-Mexican town house in California. How they managed to keep it in one piece after a whole century of absolute catastrophe is beyond Steve, and that’s exactly what fascinates him. </p><p>At Casa de Reyes they drink a margarita that is literally bigger than Steve’s face, bigger than Billy’s face, bigger than anyone’s face. They make a bet with a cute mexican couple that said they couldn’t finish it, and they prove them wrong, but that means they get to the Historic Park way too drunk for 5 pm.</p><p>“It’s your fault!” </p><p>Steve gasps. “How’s it <em> my </em> fault?” </p><p>“I said we should back off and you didn’t listen to me.”</p><p>“Well of course I didn’t, quitting is for losers.” </p><p>Billy laughs, bites on his bottom lip like he’s trying to silence himself and averts his eyes from Steve’s. Steve has never heard him laugh so much in one day before, and it’s making funny things to his heart.</p><p>“Billy?” Steve gets him to find his gaze again. “Can I make you a question?” </p><p>“Two.” </p><p>“Why did you want me to come here with you?” </p><p>Billy visibly hesitates, but he sighs in the end as if he’s made up his mind. “I- really enjoy your company. And I can’t not come here if I’m in Cali, you know? Because-” </p><p>“Your mom,” Steve finishes for him, can’t help but break into a huge smile that stretches his skin and hurts his face. “That’s sweet. And I really enjoy your company too.” </p><p>“Yeah?” </p><p>“Yeah, you’re okay when you’re not getting on my nerves.” </p><p>“Only okay? That’s rough, Harrington.”</p><p>“I think,” Steve changes the subject before he does something stupid like tell Billy exactly how he feels about him. He’s drunk, sue him. “I think the fresh air is good for us, we’re like undisciplined dogs.”</p><p>“Yeah, what’s up with that? Why do we fight so much?” </p><p>
  <em> You want me to tell you? Like, you really want me to tell you?  </em>
</p><p>Steve shrugs. “No idea, man.”</p><p>They stroll around the Park talking and laughing and talking a bit more until it’s 6 pm and they suddenly remember they’re not supposed to be wandering around fucking Old Town. And, just like it always happens in these situations, there’s not a single taxi disposed to pull over for them.</p><p>“Fuck. We’re gonna get suspended.” </p><p>“Oh, and now he worries.” </p><p>“Hey, you didn’t realize it was this late either.”</p><p>“I did realize, I just stopped caring three hours ago.” Steve checks the time in his phone. 6:34 pm. “Not to be that person, but if we made our way back walking instead of waiting for a taxi, we would be back in the hotel by now.” </p><p>“Steve, if you don’t want to be that person then don’t. Okay?” Billy huffs. “Jesus Christ. Text Hagan, ask him if they’re back already.” </p><p>“Are you out of your mind? That dwarf is going to tell on us!” </p><p>“He <em> wouldn’t </em> tell on me.” </p><p>“Try him.” </p><p>“I can’t believe I got you into this mess,” Billy says, and it sounds so painful Steve almost breaks his neck from jerking it in the direction of Billy’s voice. He’s running his hands through his messy, golden curls and Steve realizes then that it’s not that Billy is worried about the suspension. Billy is worried about <em> Steve</em>. “I’m such a dick, I’m sorry.” </p><p>“Hey,” Steve doesn’t care they’re literally standing in the middle of the street, he walks into Billy’s personal space and takes his face between his hands. “I don’t give a fuck about that stupid suspension, okay?” Billy breathes, they’re standing so close Steve catches the smell of margarita coming out of his mouth. “And you didn’t get me into anything, coming here was my decision and therefore my responsibility.” </p><p>Billy bites the inside of his cheek. “Big words really suit you.”</p><p>A loud honk causes them to jump apart. Taximan is looking at them like they’re lunatics. </p><p>“You kids are coming or what?”</p><p>Because God is powerful, they make it to the hotel in time. The receptionist looks at them suspiciously, raised eyebrows and all that, but when Billy winks at her she blushes to the tip of her ears so Steve guesses they’re okay.</p><p>Billy beats him to the shower, of course he does, and Steve is still sulking in bed when there’s a knock on the door.</p><p>“Harrington? Hargrove?” It’s Coggins, Steve prays he’s drunk enough to not notice that Steve is too. “You guys here?” </p><p>“Yes coach!” Steve stumbles over his suitcase on his way to the door. Not only Coggins is outside, Tommy is with him. And Billy thought he would help them. Yeah, sure. Brown nose. “Billy is showering.” </p><p>“Everything okay?” </p><p>“Yeah, sure. How was the beach?” </p><p>“Fun,” Tommy chimes in. “What a pity you guys missed it. Bet you two had waaay more fun without us anyway.” </p><p>“Hagan.” </p><p>“It’s okay, coach. Short people are not good at holding their drink,” Tommy scoffs, crosses his arms like the highschooler he is and starts to walk away. “Next time you come into my face remember some of us are living in the 2020, you spotted cod asshole!” </p><p>Tommy flips him the bird, but doesn’t say anything else as he disappears down the hallway. Coach Coggins is looking at him unimpressed when Steve returns his attention to him. “Ha. Sorry about that.” </p><p>“Dinner will be ready in an hour. Tomorrow’s game is important so no weed, no all-nighters and definitely no more alcohol tonight. Got it?”</p><p>“Sir, yes sir.” </p><p>Coggins glares at him one last time before he jogs after Tommy, no-running policy be damned.</p><p>When Steve turns around, Billy is swaying a joint between his thumb and index finger. God really did bless him with this beautiful, demon-shaped angel.</p><p>Billy goes to the dining room to get them food while Steve takes the coldest shower that he can bear. He feels stupid about it, but he wants to impress Billy, as if something could ever happen between them. He wants to impress Billy so badly that he doesn’t put a shirt on, he can blame it on the hot weather, and he doesn’t wear boxers under a pair of basketball shorts. He doesn’t have an excuse for that one, but if Billy is at least a 2% percent gay then he can take advantage of how nice the outline of his dick looks without underwear. He also chooses his most expensive perfume and sprays himself with it until he chokes. </p><p>
  <b>steve</b>
</p><p>please tell me you’re awake </p><p>
  <b>robin</b>
</p><p>it’s 8 pm of course i’m awake</p><p>how’s it going? </p><p>
  <b>steve</b>
</p><p>this can come as a real shock but i had the best day of my life with billy hargrove and now i kinda want him to fuck me </p><p>
  <b>robin </b>
</p><p>no shocked at all but i’m really happy you figured it out! cheers</p><p>
  <b>steve</b>
</p><p>what the hell do i do now </p><p>
  <b>robin</b>
</p><p>just go for it </p><p>
  <b>steve </b>
</p><p>he doesn’t want me </p><p><b>robin</b> </p><p>you asked him? </p><p>
  <b>steve</b>
</p><p>no? how the fuck do you ask something like that</p><p>
  <b>robin </b>
</p><p>then *how the fuck* do you know he doesn’t want you? </p><p>“Steve? Are you still alive?” </p><p>“Yes!” Fuck, how did he not hear Billy coming back? “I’ll be out in a second!” </p><p>
  <b>steve</b>
</p><p>rob i gotta go talk to you tomorrow </p><p>
  <b>robin</b>
</p><p>GOOD LUCK WE’RE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU</p><p>Steve really doesn’t want to know what she meant by ‘all’. </p><p>He leaves his phone in the cistern of the toilet and comes out of the bathroom with drops of water still falling from his hair. Billy is sitting in the middle of Steve’s bed, toying with a green lighter. He stops fidgeting when he spots Steve, stays silent for so long that Steve starts to second-guess himself. He went too far, didn’t he? </p><p>“I,” Billy opens his mouth, closes it. Opens it again. “I, uh. I put the food in the mini fridge because I thought we should smoke first.” </p><p>“Yeah, ‘course.” Steve forces a smile and sits in front of Billy, keeping a considerable distance between them. He’s already fucked up so he can’t make the guy even more uncomfortable. He hears Billy say something but he’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t catch it. “Hm?” </p><p>“I said you smell good,” Billy repeats, brings the joint into his mouth all while not breaking eye contact. Steve shifts in his seat, decides to play dumb. </p><p>“Oh? Thanks, it must be the deodorant.” </p><p>Billy lights the joint, takes a deep hit and blows the smoke right on Steve’s face. “Yeah? You went shopping in France?”</p><p>Steve sighs, gives in. “It’s german.” </p><p>“Mm, nice.” </p><p>He passes Steve the joint, and Steve tries not to flinch as their hands brush. Keyword: <em> tries</em>. Of course he flinches, and of course Billy notices.</p><p>Billy is a hell lot more confident than Steve is though, because instead of getting offended, he just smirks. “What? Did I give you an electric shock?” </p><p>Yeah, something like that.</p><p>Steve yanks his hand away. “Quit it.” </p><p>“Quit what?” </p><p>“Being an asshole,” Steve takes a slow drag, holds the smoke in his mouth for a second or so before inhaling it properly. He coughs a little, passes the joint back to Billy. “Good shit.” </p><p>“Right? And you were after Kaufman’s weed.”</p><p>“Who did you get it from?” </p><p>“No one, I self-cultivate.” </p><p>“Really?” Steve’s face lits up. “Lucky motherfucker, Susan is cool with it?” </p><p>“Of course she is, I’m under her roof. My father being dead doesn’t mean shit,” Steve watches the way Billy’s pink lips wrap around the joint as he breathes in. “Max doesn’t know though so keep your mouth shut.” </p><p>Steve mimics he’s zipped his mouth. Billy goes to pass Steve the joint, but backtracks as Steve reaches for it. </p><p>“What?” </p><p>“Wanna shotgun?” </p><p>And, okay, Steve may be stupid, but that’s, like, the oldest and poorest excuse to get someone to make out. Everyone knows it, even him. And Billy may be confident, but his voice is trembling now, and that gives him away. Steve is so nervous out of a sudden that he thinks he might throw up. </p><p>“Yeah, yes,” He nods. “Sure.” </p><p>Billy scoots closer to him, Steve’s hands tremble in his lap from how much he wants to hold onto Billy’s thick thighs. Billy grabs Steve from the back of his neck, and takes a long hit before bringing his face real close. Steve closes his eyes on instinct, and parts his mouth open when he feels the ghost of Billy’s lips on his. </p><p>He thought it would take them at least three shotguns to kiss, but it doesn’t even take them one, because Billy is hotly licking into his mouth before he gets to blow the smoke. </p><p>Steve moans, clutches onto Billy’s thighs as soon as his brain processes what’s going on. </p><p>“Sorry,” Billy breathes out between kisses. “I didn’t want us to be unconscious while doing this.” </p><p>“Yeah, okay,” Steve says, partly because he actually agrees with Billy and partly because he would agree with anything that could come out of Billy’s mouth right now. Billy moves his kisses down Steve’s neck, nips and licks and drives him fucking crazy. “Fuck.” </p><p>Billy smiles against his skin. “How do you feel about hickeys?”  </p><p>“Honestly?” Steve pants, Billy says <em> mhm</em>. “Do whatever you want to me.” </p><p>He gets shoved, hard, until his back collides with the mattress. Billy hovers over him, hooded eyes and heavy breathing. “You can’t say shit like that.” </p><p>Steve gets both of his hands under the hem of Billy’s shirt, fingertips dancing against his hard, warm skin. “Take this off,” Billy ignores him and returns his ministrations on Steve’s neck. He’s not sucking hard enough to leave hickeys though, and Steve realizes he really, really wants him to. “Billy, come on.”</p><p>Billy makes his wet way down Steve’s chest, and that’s where he starts marking. He’s making sure Steve can cover the marks, and Steve would be able to properly appreciate it if all the blood in his body wasn’t gathered in his dick right now. Billy’s tongue traces every inch of his torso, leaving the skin shiny with saliva. Steve’s muscles are trembling underneath it, spasming. </p><p>When Billy reaches his happy trail, Steve’s knuckles have gone white from how forcefully he’s been tugging on Billy’s hair.</p><p>He knows where this is leading, and even though he loves the idea, he needs to do something first. Needs it so desperately he could combust. </p><p>“Billy, wait-” Billy stops immediately, looks at him all confused from his position between Steve’s legs. Steve’s heart kicks in his chest. “I really, <em> really </em>want to suck you off now. Can I?” </p><p>“Shit,” Billy finds Steve’s mouth again, swallowing down his moans. Billy tastes like alcohol and weed, sweet and salty at the same time, and his tongue is seriously the best thing Steve has ever had in his mouth. “Yeah, of course you can.”</p><p>Considering Billy still has his shirt on despite Steve’s request, he decides to take matters into his own hands. He sits in bed, breaks the kiss, and yanks the damn thing off Billy’s torso. Billy chuckles breathlessly but lifts his arms to help him. Steve pecks his lips, can’t really help it when Billy’s <em>right there </em>and looking at him <em>like</em> <em>that.</em> He pecks his lips again for good measure. </p><p>“Now I’m gonna take off your pants.” </p><p>“Okay-”</p><p>Steve makes Billy lay down in bed, feels his dick throbbing at the sight of Billy sprawled out for him. Without preamble, he grabs Billy’s cock over the thin material of his shorts. Billy hardens in his hand, groans his name in such a delicious way that Steve doubts he could ever forget. </p><p>Billy’s erect nipples are distracting, so Steve takes one in his mouth as he moves his hand up and down Billy’s clothed shaft. Billy groans again, this time louder and more incoherently, chasing Steve’s touch with his hips. Steve sucks on the hard nub, bites on it just to hear Billy cry out. Then circles the tip of his tongue around the areola, Billy rutting desperately against his hand now. </p><p>Grabbing on his hair, Billy guides Steve to his other nipple. Steve goes easily, happily gets his mouth to work on its sensitive skin. </p><p>Billy starts to leak through his shorts, so Steve stops abusing his nipples to sit on his ankles and pull Billy’s shorts off. Billy’s cock is big, thick and perfect. It has a slight curve to it that makes Steve’s mouth literally water. This is not the first time he sees Billy’s cock, but he certainly never saw it this close and this <em> hard</em>. And he certainly never thought he would refer to someone’s dick as ‘perfect’ either, but there’s really no other word that could describe it. Balls tight, flushed red and wet at the tip, Billy’s dick is fucking perfect. </p><p>When Steve takes it in his hand, it feels heavy. He chances a look at Billy’s face, and he’s biting his lips so hard it looks painful. He uses his grip on Billy’s cock so he could push it aside a bit, and with his other hand he tugs on Billy’s pubes. Billy jerks involuntarily. “Holy fuck.” </p><p>Steve does it again, and again and again until Billy’s left panting. Accommodating between Billy’s knees, he presses his elbows on Billy’s thighs and lays the rest of his body on the mattress. </p><p>“So. Just a heads up,” Steve tries a warning tone, <em> tries</em>, because it sounds way more breathless than warning, and he can’t even take his eyes off Billy’s cock as he speaks which is the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to him. Thank God he’s too turned on to care. “I’ve never done this before.” </p><p>That’s all he wanted to say before he got to work, a half-assed ‘sorry if I literally suck at this’. He never thought Billy would care. He was wrong, because as soon as he closes his eyes and opens his mouth, Billy tightens his grip in his hair and yanks on it to force Steve to hold his gaze. Steve can’t help but whine when he notices Billy’s blue irises painted black. </p><p>“Are you sure you want to do this?” Billy asks, sounding as breathless as Steve is. As Steve feels. With trembling fingers, Billy massages Steve’s scalp as he goes on. “You don’t have to- I mean. We can do other things. Or nothing. I just, I don’t want you to feel pressured because there’s really no pressure at all, okay? We can stop now and watch Chicken Little, I don’t mind.”</p><p>And, wow. Okay. If Steve didn’t want to suck Billy Hargrove’s dick before, and he did, he sure as hell wants to do it now. In fact, he wants to suck Billy’s dick so hard it leaves his jaw aching for weeks. Wants to fucking choke on it, and then make Billy finish in his mouth to choke on his cum too. </p><p>He’s touched himself to gay porn before, sure, but he’s never imagined he’d be so <em> enthusiastic </em> at the idea of swallowing someone’s come.</p><p>“Billy, I want this. I promise. There’s nothing I want more now than your dick down my throat.” </p><p>“Jesus,” Billy uses his free hand to take a hold of his own cock, painful-looking hard and head glistening with precome. “You kiss your mom with that mouth?”</p><p>“I don’t kiss my mom,” Steve says, matter-of-fact, then grimaces. “And please don’t mention her again.”</p><p>“Yeah, okay,” Billy chuckles, but his voice has gotten so hoarse that it could be easily mistaken for a groan. “Open up, sweetheart.” </p><p>Steve does, making sure to maintain eye contact while Billy feeds his cock to him. It’s the hottest fucking thing Steve has ever experienced, he’s afraid he’s gonna come untouched just from the taste of Billy’s precome on his tongue. He’s not sure of what he’s doing, he’s just following Billy’s silent requests and trying to remember all the tricks he’s seen blokes do in porn, and he hopes to both heaven and hell that it’s enough.</p><p>Billy stops pushing his head down once Steve has wrapped his lips around the head of his cock, and Steve panics for a hot second until his brain starts working again and gets his tongue moving.</p><p>“Fuck,” Billy sighs, lets go of his cock to hold Steve’s jaw in place. Steve hums, and it gets a shiver out of Billy. “How does it taste? Tell me.”</p><p>Steve wraps his hand around the base of Billy’s cock, takes it out of his mouth to say: “Manly, just like you. I love it.” and sinks on it, this time taking more than just the head. </p><p>“Easy,” Billy warns, though he’s biting on his bottom lip so hard it looks a second away from splitting. His fingers are moving on Steve’s hair again, just scratching his scalp with his rough, bitten nails. Steve nods, manages to go down halfway the length without gagging. “That’s it, you’re doing so good for me.”</p><p>Steve starts bobbing his head, at one point he remembers to hollow his cheeks and it makes Billy moan out loud. The stretch of his lips, the weight on his tongue, there’s not a single thing that Steve doesn’t absolutely love about this. He can’t believe it’s taken him this long to try cock, if he knew he was going to love it this much he would’ve gotten on his knees for Billy Hargrove forever ago. His hand is rhythmically jerking whatever he’s not fitting in his mouth, matching the movements of his lips and tongue.</p><p>“Steve,” Billy pants, tugs on Steve’s hair until he’s moaning around his cock. There’s a fire burning inside Steve’s chest, carrying poison through his veins. His own dick is pulsating in his pants, leaking and leaking precome since his name escaped Billy’s panting lips. “Fucking hell, look at me- please, <em> please </em>look at me.”</p><p>Steve doesn’t recall closing his eyes, but he snaps them open at Billy’s plea. And it’s not like Billy wasn’t beautiful before, because he was, he was actually the most beautiful person Steve has ever seen, but now? Steve’s sure he doesn’t even belong in earth. He belongs in an art museum, in the fucking Olympus. He deserves to be watched by worthy eyes, touched by worthy hands, by someone that could immortalize <em> this </em> and have all the future generations mistake him for a goddamn deity.</p><p>Steve doesn’t recall starting grinding against the sheets either, but now that he feels so close to coming he thinks <em> I’m really going to cum just from sucking Billy Hargrove off</em>. As if the guy needs another reason to inflate his over-inflated ego.</p><p>Billy slips the thumb of the hand which is still holding Steve’s jaw inside of Steve’s mouth, carefully ignoring his own cock and going straight to hooking it, forcing Steve’s mouth to stretch impossibly wider. </p><p>Steve is waiting for Billy to start fucking his mouth, knows that Billy’s head connecting with his throat is all he needs to come in his pants. Billy doesn’t. His grip on Steve’s hair tightens every passing second, but his thighs, although trembling, are staying awfully still.</p><p>Steve takes the cock out of his mouth with a wet pop, and looks directly into Billy’s eyes when he tells him: “Fuck my mouth.” </p><p>Billy swears, dick throbbing in front of Steve’s face. “Jesus fucking Christ. I told you, you can’t just say shit like that.” </p><p>“Please?”</p><p>“Yeah, fuck, okay.” Billy plants his feet on the mattress, his thick thighs on each side of Steve’s face. Steve’s heart is beating so hard against his ribcage he’s sure every damn person in the hotel can hear it. “Hold onto my legs,” <em> Yessir. </em>“That’s right. Now if you want me to stop, hey- look at me,” Steve does. “If you want me to stop, at any given moment, you just pinch my thighs. Okay?” </p><p>Steve nods dumbly. </p><p>“Use your words, doll.”</p><p>Steve <em> whimpers</em>, can’t really help it when Billy is talking to him like this. “Yeah- yes. Okay.” </p><p>Billy smiles at him all dimply and sweet and shit and, in a scale of one to ten, how fucked up is that Steve feels like crying?</p><p>“Good,” Billy grabs him by his hair again, this time with his two hands. The new position has Steve rutting against the sheets every time he makes the smallest of movements, so he gives himself like three seconds before coming. “Now open that pretty little mouth for me,” Steve obliges and Billy guides him forward, lets him catch the head of his cock between his now swollen lips. “That’s it. Are you ready?”</p><p>Steve nods vigorously, as vigorously as he can with a dick in his mouth, and Billy wastes no time in forcing his head down his length. The intrusion is gone as soon as it came, though, Steve can’t really enjoy the idea of choking on cock because Billy pulls him off by his hair the second the head collides with his throat. </p><p>“Come the fuck <em> on</em>, Billy.”</p><p>“Fuck,” Billy’s chest is heaving. “You sure this is your first time sucking a dick?” </p><p>“And it’ll be the last time if you don’t give me what I want, so come on.” </p><p>Billy forces him down again, this time helping himself by lifting his hips off the bed. That does it, Steve gets the air ripped out of his lungs and his vision becomes watery. Billy thrusts once, twice before collapsing in the mattress and letting Steve catch his breath. </p><p>“How are you doing?” </p><p>“Fucking amazing,” Steve says, and he feels the rasp in his voice more than he hears it. “Keep going.”</p><p>“Wait,” Holding his head in place, Billy leans down and meets him in a kiss. It’s filthy, all tongue and teeth that leaves Steve lightheaded with want. “You’re so hot. I’m allowed go rough now?” </p><p>“You’re <em> obliged </em>to go rough.” </p><p>Billy laughs in a way that has Steve’s heart skipping a bit, and gives Steve a minute to get into position before he starts to properly fuck his throat. Deep, slow thrusts that become quicker and shallower and quicker and shallower. Billy can’t keep his mouth shut, he’s moaning and groaning and praise keeps rolling off his tongue, his thighs are shaking so forcefully that Steve’s hands keep sliding down them. </p><p>Steve wants this to go on forever, and at the same time he wants it to end now. Wants Billy to fill his mouth with his cum and force him to swallow. </p><p>“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Billy chants, yanks on Steve’s hair so hard it makes his scalp burn. “I’m gonna-”</p><p>Yes yes <em> yes</em>. That’s what Steve is yearning for. His own hips are moving erratically now, he’s barely breathing and he can’t really see anymore and he’s never been this turned on in his goddamn life.</p><p>He’s almost tasting Billy’s come on his tongue when Billy suddenly pulls him off. He has no time to protest because, keeping Steve’s face close to his dick, Billy starts aggressively jerking himself. He’s letting go these huffs of pleasure that sound heavenly to Steve’s ears. </p><p>Billy’s face as he comes is what tips Steve over the edge, his hips stuttering against the mattress as he comes and comes and comes while Billy’s cums splashes all over his hand. The fact that they’ve came at the very same time is poetic to Steve. Magical. </p><p>Billy keeps stroking himself until he hisses in pain. Steve bats his hand away and pins him to the mattress, kisses him hard and desperate. Billy kisses him back just as eagerly, his wet-with-cum hand now making it’s way down Steve’s torso, the other one keeping him in place by his hips. </p><p>“Uh,” Steve tuts, embarrassment finally kicking in. </p><p>Billy’s hand stops right at the hem of Steve’s shorts. “What? What’s wrong?”</p><p>“I- uh. I kind of…” He tries, shifting on his knees. “Ikindofalreadycame.” </p><p>Billy blinks. “What?”</p><p>“You heard me.” </p><p>“No, I didn’t?” Billy’s pupils are still so dilated that Steve can’t find a single tease of blue. “Can you please just let me touch you? It’s driving me mad.” </p><p>Steve sucks on his bottom lip and nods because 1) okay, fair and 2) maybe if Billy sees it for himself, then he’ll laugh it off and it won’t be awkward. </p><p>But when Billy’s hand touches his dick, he doesn’t laugh. It’s not awkward either, it’s just weird: with Billy intently staring at him and his hand touching Steve’s softening, wet dick.</p><p>“You kind of already came.”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s exactly what I said.” </p><p>“You came untouched.”</p><p>“I mean,” Steve clears his throat. “You have your hand down my pants. You should know.”</p><p>Billy doesn’t answer with words, instead he easily switches their positions in bed so Steve is the one with his back on the mattress now.</p><p>“Think you can go again?” Billy asks, but doesn’t wait for a reply to pull Steve’s pants down his legs and take him in his mouth with one swift movement. Steve’s hands automatically fly to his hair, sinking his nails in Billy’s scalp.</p><p>“Holy shit,” Steve breathes, feels his dick rapidly starting to fill Billy’s sinful mouth. Thank God for teenage hormones. “Fuck.” </p><p>Billy sucks on the tip like it’s a fucking lollipop, tongue swirling and collecting every bead of Steve’s come. His hands are toying with Steve’s inner thighs, pinching and scratching and driving Steve crazy. His dick keeps growing under the ministrations of Billy’s talented tongue, and he’s big, really big, it’s so hot to watch Billy progressively struggle with it.</p><p>“Shit, Harrington.” Billy says as he’s pulled off, rubbing his fucking <em> face </em>against Steve’s shaft. </p><p>“Can you please- not call me that when you’re going down on me?” </p><p>“You have the biggest, most beautiful dick I’ve ever seen.” </p><p>“You’ve seen many?” Steve asks, feels like Billy pushed his whole hand on his possessive switch.</p><p>“In porn, yeah,” Billy admits. “You give those guys a run for their money, though.” And then he’s pressing hot, open mouthed kisses all over Steve’s cock, starting from the base and all the way up to the swollen head.</p><p>“Fuck,” Steve pants, legs quivering. “Fuck.” </p><p>Billy makes sure he’s being watched before he sinks down, taking as much of Steve’s cock as he can. Steve’s vision goes white when Billy gags, throat constricting around the head, but instead of pulling off Billy just covers with his hand what he can’t fit in his mouth and keeps going. Steve may have used teeth by accident and lack of practice, but Billy is using his teeth on purpose: tongue flattened on a side of his dick and teeth both rhythmically and carefully scratching the sensitive skin on the other, all the while he keeps his cheeks hollowed as he bobs his head. </p><p>There’s not a single part of Steve’s body that it’s not trembling, not only he’s never been sucked off like this, he never thought he <em> could be </em>sucked off like this. He’s experiencing so much pleasure he feels like he could pass out.</p><p>“Billy,” Steve tugs forcefully on his hair. “Billy, I’m not gonna last long-”</p><p>Billy is still looking at him in the eye as he moans obscenely around a mouthful of Steve’s cock, and Steve’s leaking so much precome he’s sure it’s inhumane at this point.</p><p>“Christ,” Steve lets his legs fall completely open, and it must’ve given Billy an idea, because he takes Steve’s dick out of his mouth. “No, what-”</p><p>“Easy, pretty boy,” Billy squeezes his thighs. “Have you ever fingered yourself?” </p><p>Steve feels his face burning. “I- a few times.” </p><p>Billy leans down to lap at Steve’s balls, squeezing his thighs even harder to keep them wide open. Steve cries out. </p><p>“Do you like it? Stretching yourself open with your fingers?” </p><p>“Y-Yeah, yes.”</p><p>“What if I do you, huh? Would you like it?” </p><p>Steve’s brain short circuits. His eyes are fixed on Billy’s big hands holding him open, leaving red marks on his pale thighs. “God, please. Please Billy-”</p><p>“Give me something to work from, Steve. It’s yes or no.”</p><p>“Yes! Yes plea-”</p><p>Billy crashes their mouths together, taking place between Steve’s open legs and grinding down on him. Billy is hard again, he’s actually as hard as Steve, Steve feels dizzy at the thought that Billy got so hard just from sucking him off. </p><p>They get into it, <em> really </em> into it, soon they’re rutting violently against each other, like they’ve just learned how good it feels to touch themselves. Steve was excited for Billy’s fingers, but this is more than enough: he’s starting to let this breathy <em> ah ah ah’ </em>s that Billy is literally eating up, and every thrust brings him closer to the edge.</p><p>But just when he’s about to let go, Billy stills his hips and manhandles Steve until he’s laying on his stomach, face buried in the pillows.</p><p>“You have lube?”</p><p>“Yeah, big pocket of my black suitcase.” His words are muffled by the pillows but Billy still catches it, considering the snort he lets out. “What?”</p><p>“I just had a deja vu of the first time I borrowed your shampoo.” </p><p>Steve smiles, rests his head on his forearms so he can follow Billy with his gaze as he makes his way to Steve’s suitcases. “Shampoo is in the-”</p><p>“Medium pocket of your grey suitcase,” Billy finishes for him. “I know. Not that I’m complaining, but why did you bring lube anyway? Can’t go a whole week without fingering?”</p><p>Steve rolls his eyes even though Billy is not looking at him. “It makes it easier to jerk off.”</p><p>When Billy finally returns to bed, he takes his time covering the entirety of Steve’s back with wet kisses. He starts at the tailbone and makes his way up, bites on Steve’s ear as he reaches it and finishes sucking on his pulse point. </p><p>“Billy…” </p><p>“I’m sorry, you just taste so sweet.” </p><p>Steve goes hot at the sound of the lube being uncapped, and clenches the sheets into his fists. He was not expecting Billy to grab the back of his knee and push it high on the bed, right below his chin, and he feels so open in the new position that the air gets knocked out of his lungs. “Alright, I need you to relax for me. Can you do that?” </p><p>Steve nods, burying his face in the pillows again. He takes a deep breath just as Billy rubs a slick finger against his hole.</p><p>“If you only knew about all the times I’ve dreamt about this,” Steve gasps when Billy starts pushing the finger in, slowly. “I’m scared I’m going to wake up from a wet dream soon.” </p><p>He stops at the first knuckle. </p><p>“You- you can’t get rid of me that easily.” </p><p>“That’s good,” Billy says, resumes pushing his finger until it slips past the second knuckle. Steve tenses for a bit, but starts relaxing as soon as he feels Billy’s lips on the nape of his neck. With one final press, Billy manages his whole finger inside. Steve moans when the cold material of Billy’s ring presses against the warm skin of his hole. “Holy shit. You’re really tight.” </p><p>“Or maybe your fingers are really thick-”</p><p>“Yeah, and that,” Steve can hear Billy’s smile. “Lay your head sideways on the pillows, sweetheart. I wanna see your pretty face when I fuck you with my fingers.”</p><p>Steve obliges, closes his eyes as Billy starts moving his finger. In and out, just letting Steve adjust to him. Everytime Billy’s ring catches his rim, Steve can’t help but whine. </p><p>“You’re ready for another?” </p><p>“Yes,” He answers immediately. “Yes please.”</p><p>“You’re fucking ruining me, Steve.” Billy takes his finger off, and Steve hears the sound of lube being poured before he <em> feels </em>more lube being poured, this time in his hole. He hisses, and Billy is quick to rub two fingers against it, trying to warm him up. “Sorry, I should’ve warned.” </p><p>Steve nods distractedly, because he doesn’t give a fuck, he just wants Billy’s fingers inside of him.</p><p>Two fingers is a stretch, not exactly a painful one but it does sting, and it’s not like Billy isn’t making it better for him -he’s whispering praise and tenderly tracing the length of Steve’s spine with the fingertips of his free hand- but his fingers are really fucking <em> thick</em>. One of Billy’s fingers equals, like, two of Steve’s. He’s sure he’d be ready for Billy’s cock when this is over, and the thought makes him flush all the way down his chest and all the way up the tip of his ears.</p><p>Steve sighs in both relief and overwhelm when Billy gets, finally, second-knuckle deep. </p><p>“Almost all the way in, baby. How are you doing?” </p><p>“Good, I’m-” Steve blindly reaches for Billy’s hand. “I’m really good.” </p><p>Billy interlocks their fingers, his palm pressed firmly against the back of Steve’s hand, and it’s so intimate that Steve feels like crying for the second time that night.</p><p>Steve’s sweating by the time Billy’s fingers are fully seated inside of him, his whole body shaking with anticipation. </p><p>“Hey,” Billy squeezes his hand. “Easy, okay?” Steve nods, feeling unable to speak. Thank God Billy doesn’t make him. “Just tell me when you’re ready, we have all night.” </p><p>Steve wants to say thanks. Thank you for being so patient. Thank you for making me feel so good. Thank you for taking such good care of me. He doesn’t. Instead, he waits until he feels his voice coming back to him, and says: “You can- you can move now.”</p><p>Billy does. His fingers feel even bigger inside, thicker. When Billy thrusts in, they feel like it’s too much. But when Billy withdrawals, Steve wants more <em> andmoreandmore. </em></p><p>The ring thing is really doing it for him, he finds himself anxiously waiting for the feeling every time he takes past the blessed second knuckle.</p><p>“Fucking hell,” Billy says, and he sounds so turned on it sends fucking electric shocks down Steve’s spine. “Okay. I need you to work with me for a minute, doll. Can you do that?” Steve nods again, vigorously. “You just squeeze my hand when it feels <em> real </em>good, okay?” </p><p>“Yes, yeah- okay.” </p><p>“Good boy,” Billy’s movements become impossibly slower, making Steve feel the drag of every inch of his fingers. Steve knows exactly what he’s looking for, and he also knows exactly where it is. Right when the piece of metal collides with his rim, Steve squeezes Billy’s hand so hard it’s painful. Billy stills his fingers inside of him. “Yeah? Right here?” </p><p>“Billy,” Steve moans. “Billy, please.” </p><p>“You know what, Steve? You say please a lot, but you don’t tell me what you need,” Billy starts rubbing his fingertips against his walls, his trimmed nails catching Steve’s prostate and making him cry out. “Come on, tell me what you need. Use your big boy’s words.” </p><p>“God- you’re such an asshole,” Steve huffs, or tries to, the constant pressure against his prostate is making it difficult to breathe. “Just. Just please go harder.” </p><p>“Yeah? That’s all you want from me?” </p><p>“Jesus fucking Christ, Billy.” </p><p>“Shh. Let me show you something,” Billy takes out his fingers, but only to flip his hand over and enter Steve again. His fingers push inside as far as they can go, and just when Steve is wondering why the fuck he did that for, he crooks them in a way that has every single fiber of Steve’s body tensing up. “That’s right, baby. You like that?”</p><p>His hips are instinctively chasing Billy’s fingers now, which keep thrusting right against his prostate over and over and over again. Steve’s not sure what he’s saying anymore, registers his mouth moving and babbling and begging but he can’t bring himself to care, not when he’s getting his brains fucked out like this.</p><p>“Not gonna fuck you without a condom, pretty boy.” Billy says from somewhere behind him, and <em> oh, </em>is that what he was so desperately asking for? The sound of Billy’s wet fingers fucking into him gets more aggressive with every passing second. “It may take a while for you to come, even if you feel on edge all the time, cause I’m not gonna touch your dick. I want you to come just from this.” </p><p>Steve whines, but it’s not like Billy is giving him any choice. He’s just warning Steve about how’s it going to be.</p><p>“So, I can do this all night…” He punctuates his words with a hard shove of his fingers, Steve’s eyes rolling back in his head. Billy keeps his fingers right there, their pads pressing and pressing and pressing and. “Or, I can put you out of your misery and make you come with one simple touch. What do you say?”</p><p>Steve doesn’t know how Billy plans to do that without jerking him off but <em> hell </em>if he doesn’t believe in every word that comes out of that mouth. He’s seeing literal stars behind his eyelids, his dick fucking hurts from being so hard. Feels like if he doesn’t get to come soon, he could actually die. </p><p>He’s never <em> sobbed </em>from pleasure before, and yet here he is, pillows drenched with his tears and throat raw from crying out.</p><p>“Please make me come, Billy. Please. I-I can’t take it anymore.” </p><p>“Look at you,” Billy switches his pressing technique to deep, circular movements on his prostate that make Steve’s dick throb and splatter loads of precome. “Stocked full of my fingers, all sweet and pliant for me. This is what you needed all along, didn’t you, baby?” </p><p>“Yes. God, yes-”</p><p>“Say it. Tell me how much you wanted me.” </p><p>“Since the first fucking time I saw you, I-” Steve admits, cocks his head to his left side so he can look directly into Billy’s eyes as he speaks. “I never thought you’d want me too.” </p><p>“Shit, how could I not?” Billy untangles their hands to play with Steve’s balls, the warm contact teetering him closer the edge. “Who the fuck could deny you, huh?” </p><p>Steve’s never felt like this. He feels hot, he feels wanted, feels like anything could happen now and Billy’s attention would still be on him. Only on him. He needs the release, <em> craves </em> it, but he’s also terrified he’d stop feeling like this once he gets it. He never wants to stop feeling like this. </p><p>“Billy, promise me.”</p><p>Billy averts his gaze from the way his fingers are thoroughly fucking into Steve to address the plea, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. “Hm? What do I promise?” </p><p>“That we’re not going back from this.” </p><p>Billy kisses his cheek then, and the tip of his nose and the feverish skin of his temple and the corner of his mouth. He’s smiling when he pulls back. “I promise you,” Increasing the movements of his fingers, he places the thumb of his other hand in the space between Steve’s balls and hole, not applying pressure, just keeping it there. Steve is way too gone to ask. “Okay, you ready to come now?”</p><p>“I- I don’t think…” Steve manages between breathy whimpers. “I don’t think I can, if you don’t-”</p><p>The rest of the sentence dies in Steve’s throat when Billy presses his thumb against <em> that </em> space that makes him instantly blackout while his dick starts spurting rope after rope of cum. He’s left shaking with so much force that he feels like he just lost control over his body forever, and it’s amazing, so amazing that he’s still coming a whole minute after his orgasm, Billy’s clever fingers not relenting on his prostate.</p><p>Billy’s telling him how perfect he is, how well he did for him. Tears are unabashedly streaming down Steve’s face now, he has no strength to hide them in the pillows anymore, he’s just slowly and surely surrendering to Billy’s will. </p><p>When Billy finally withdrawals his fingers, Steve collapses in the mattress, body spasming with aftershocks. He lies like that for what it feels like hours, Billy’s slick hand rubbing his back soothingly. Trusting in his capacity to speak again, Steve flips on his back to look at Billy. </p><p>“Hi.” </p><p>Billy’s smile reaches the corner of his eyes. “Hi. How are you feeling?” </p><p>“Fantastic. You can come in my mouth now.” </p><p>Billy chuckles, brushes a lock of hair behind Steve’s ear. “Are you out of your mind?” </p><p>Steve doesn’t insist because, well, that would be humiliating. So, instead, he licks a fat stripe up his palm and closes it around the base of Billy’s hard cock. “Steve…” </p><p>“What?” He feigns innocence, starting to pump Billy’s cock. He sees one of Billy’s hand reaching for it, but Steve grabs his wrist just in time and guides it to his mouth instead. He takes three, hopes that Billy gets the reference for the next time. Laps around their length to get them real slippery, and sucks them inside. </p><p>“Oh my God,” Billy moans, forces his fingers deeper into his mouth until Steve’s choking. “Yeah, baby. Show me.” </p><p>Steve hums, relaxes his throat as Billy settles a quick rhythm of fucking it with his fingers. Steve speeds up his hand on Billy’s cock, trying to match the movements of Billy’s fingers. Steve’s chin is coated with saliva now, only worsening when Billy stretches his fingers, forcing his mouth open. “Yes, God. Don’t stop.” </p><p>Steve’s in fucking ecstasy, why would he stop? Far from that, he lets go of Billy’s wrist and leads his now free hand to Billy’s balls, tugs on them as his jerks become aggressive. </p><p>Billy’s visibly <em> shuddering</em>, hips moving on their own accord, fingers rubbing against Steve’s abused tongue. His thighs tense, his balls tighten in Steve’s hand. “Shit- I’m coming. Come here, come here-”</p><p>Steve cranes his neck as far as he can and Billy does the rest, takes his fingers out of Steve’s mouth and grabs his jaw. He pushes the head of his cock between Steve’s lips, and as soon as Steve gets his tongue moving, Billy is coming. Steve keeps stroking him, eagerly swallows every drop of come Billy spills for him as he milks his cock. </p><p>Billy’s moaning Steve’s name the whole time, face contorted in pleasure. His moans turn painful when Steve goes to hollow his cheeks, mumbles something about ‘too much’ and Steve releases his cock, teases him for being ‘so damn sensitive’.</p><p>Billy falls on his back on the mattress, manhandles Steve until he’s laying on top of him: cheek pressed against Billy’s chest, listening to the erratic beating of his heart. </p><p>Crazy, how just a couple of hours ago Steve thought nothing could happen between them. He’s so fucking <em> happy </em> he doesn’t even want to fall asleep, wants to stay in this moment forever. </p><p>Billy kisses the top of his head, clenches his strong arms around Steve’s torso. “That was far too much better than fighting.” </p><p>Steve laughs. “Definitely.”</p><p>“You hungry?” </p><p>“No. Sleepy.” </p><p>“Okay,” Billy reaches for something in Steve’s bedside table, Steve guesses his phone, and he’s proven right when he sees Billy setting an alarm at 8 am. Steve suddenly remembers where he is and what’s he’s supposed to be thinking about, that is, tomorrow’s game. Not that he gives a flying fuck, but. “Night.” </p><p>He places a kiss on Billy’s chest. “Good night.” </p><p>Steve wakes up to an empty bed. The room is warm but he feels cold, all the way into his heart. He tries to keep calm and not jump into conclusions, wait for Billy to get out of the bathroom and laugh about how paranoid he is, but minutes keep passing and he’s still alone. He sits on bed, looks at around for Billy’s phone but it’s nowhere to be found. That means Steve didn’t hear the alarm going off, and Billy disappeared from his side as soon as he woke up. His chest goes real tight, there’s something constricting his throat now that it’s making it difficult for him to breathe. He wants to cry, but tears are just not coming out, as if he was too shocked to get his body functioning. </p><p>And what the fuck is he shocked about? He had to see this coming. The fact that no one has ever made him feel the way Billy does doesn’t mean that it goes both ways. He’s hopelessly in love with Billy, there’s no reason to hide it anymore, but he’s been in love with him probably since the first time he saw him, and the connection he felt last night only made it worse. He wants to rip his own heart off his fucking chest.</p><p>He needs to call Robin, needs to call her right the fuck now, needs to sob over the phone until she finally convinces his dad to come and get him-</p><p>Then the door of the room flies open, revealing a beaming Billy Hargrove carrying a giant tray full of food in his arms. Steve’s breath catches in his throat. </p><p>“Aw, you’re awake,” Billy comments casually, closes the door with his foot and walks to Steve’s bed to place the tray on the bedside table. “I wanted to surprise you.”</p><p>Steve still wants to cry, but for completely different reasons now. “Earth to Steve? Are you okay?” Billy doesn’t wait for an answer though, he just cups Steve’s face and presses the sweetest kiss on his lips. “I get it. Sleeping beauty needs his time to wake up, right?”</p><p>“Uh,” Steve clears his throat. “Yeah, something like that.” </p><p>“Alright. Take your time. The team is in the dining room but I told the coach you have a headache to get him off your neck. <em> And </em> I just got us an excuse to skip the beach today, well, if you want to skip it of course-”</p><p>“Billy.” </p><p>“If you think someone is going to suspect or whatever. I don’t give a fuck, but if you do-”</p><p>“<em>Billy</em>.” </p><p>“I- what?” </p><p>“Just a heads up. I’m in love with you.” </p><p>Billy’s eyes go wide, go mad. He doesn’t say anything for a couple of torturous seconds. “Really?” </p><p>“Yeah. Like, crazy in love. Obsessively.” </p><p>“You’re really honest, huh?” </p><p>“I gotta,” Steve bites his lip. “But you don’t have to, I mean. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same.” </p><p>“I know,” Billy smirks. “But I do.”</p><p>“You- what?” </p><p>“I said I do. I’m crazily, obsessively in love with you too.” It’s a good thing that Steve can’t loot at himself right now, because he’s probably wearing the dumbest expression on his face. “That doesn’t mean I’ll stop getting on your nerves, though.” </p><p>Steve kisses him. “Believe me. I wouldn’t want it any other way.” </p><p>Hawkins High beats Manchester Central, Billy and Steve skip the beach celebration to make out and cuddle all afternoon, and the team gets ready for the Championship. </p><p>Like a Chronicle of a Death Foretold, or a Death told by Steve Harrington, they lose against Palmdale. Billy still gets the scholarship though, so it’s okay. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kudos and comments are appreciated! </p><p>You can find me on: </p><p>Tumblr - @section-80<br/>Twitter - @section8o<br/>Instagram - @section.eighty</p></blockquote></div></div>
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